


History On The Run

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Department of Energy analyst Rodney McKay is asked to find the source of some blackouts.  He does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History On The Run

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote from Thomas Griffith: "Journalism is in fact history on the run." Thanks to kisa_hawklin for the beta!

"Rodney! I've got a new assignment for you," Holden said. "We've had reports and complaints of blackouts in the area surrounding Colorado Springs. Find out what's going on."

With a sigh, Rodney turned to look at Holden. "I'm already working on something. Can't you find someone else to discover that Front Range or Martin Drake aren't functioning properly? Call the Colorado EPA - they oversee coal plants."

"That's just it," Holden said, warming "The local plant isn't showing any fluctuations in output, just in usage. There's something sucking up a huge amount of power out there."

Huh. Well, that was puzzling. "Fine. I'll take care of it." He tidied up his current project and handed it off, and then started looking at power usage patterns for Colorado.

What he found was fascinating. No wonder they were getting complaints - the more remote areas of Colorado Springs were experiencing brownouts on almost daily basis, and blackouts at least once or twice a month. When Rodney started charting them, they showed that they were happening at a minimum of eight-hour intervals, with a maximum of about sixteen hours. There was also the occasional blip at other times.

It didn't make any sense. The power plants that supplied the area showed a steady output. Whatever was sucking power was doing so in huge amounts, over and over again.

As he continued digging, he found complaints from the power companies themselves, going back years. The complaints had been buried and forgotten almost immediately, and Rodney wondered why. They all seemed to center around Cheyenne Mountain.

Rodney started googling, wondering what exactly they were doing at Cheyenne that could be eating this kind of power. All that he found was a bland webpage, describing what NORAD and USNORTHCOM do, but according to that, most of the day-to-day activities took place at Peterson Air Force Base. As far as Rodney could tell, there was only a skeleton crew there usually. That wasn't enough for the power surges.

He had just begun launching some of their monitoring equipment when Holden asked from behind Rodney. "Have you figured it out yet?"

"Not really," said Rodney, turning around. "It's weird, though, no doubt about it."

"Well, go home. You can pick this up in the morning," said Holden. "No use putting in the overtime since I can't pay you for it."

Rodney didn't really want to go home - he had a mystery to solve, and that's what he was good at - but with Holden there, he couldn't do much besides save his work and shut down. Besides, maybe he'd have better luck at home - the equipment was better than government issued, anyway.

The drive from Germantown to Gaithersburg wasn't bad - thankfully it went opposite most rush hour traffic in the evenings, and was short to boot. Noticing that the dishes had been done and the floor vacuumed, he silently gave thanks for Martha. She was thorough, but not nosy, and as he unlocked his study, he made a mental note that it was time to give her a bonus again.

He kept all of his equipment in this room, and the last thing he wanted was for word to get out that he was still keeping his hand in. There were always people who knew his history, and thought that it would be worth finding out what he was up to.

The computers in this room were state of the art - best that Rodney could build. He laughed to himself. During the day he was a mild-mannered analyst. By night, he was Supergeek!, hacking through computer security in a single bound.

He booted them up and went to make a sandwich. Taking it and a beer back to the den, he settled down in front of the monitor and started trying to make his way through the Sac's security.

It was fiendishly clever, which didn't really surprise Rodney. Computer security had improved since he'd hacked into the Department of Energy in the nineties. He spotted a few twists that made him think that they'd used some of his algorithms for programming, and was strangely flattered.

Finally, he ran up against a request for a password that he couldn't hack around. Setting the computer up to try and guess it, he went looking with the little bits of information that he'd been able to find.

What he found out was positively electrifying, assuming what he found was accurate. Rodney couldn't find a reason not to believe what he'd found, and he usually could. There was a line of funding that looked at a casual glance like it dead-ended into a "miscellaneous expense" type fund. But as he traced the lines around it, he found references to a department of "Homeworld Security." His immediate response was that obviously it was a project along the lines of Star Wars: secretive, weird, but not worth any more time.

But there were still those power surges. They didn't match with "Deep space telemetry" or whatever else they were claiming. Computers, even those working with satellites, just didn't pull that much power.

He discovered that the man in charge of Homeworld was a general named Jack O'Neill, and he turned in that direction. He found lots of awards, all for meritorious service or heroic action, but not one listed what they'd been awarded for. Instead, they had the details excised in the interests of National Security. So he kept looking.

Eventually, O'Neill led Rodney to one Sam Carter. He had similar awards to O'Neill, but not the rank. More importantly, he found his name outside the military. He was published in multiple journals of theoretical physics, discussing the possibilities inherent to wormholes. Rodney waded through the papers, even though it had been a long time since his college physics classes, and thought that he got the gist of it. He still wasn't sure what it had to do with the power surges in Colorado - maybe they were trying to make a wormhole? Finally he found a CV that gave her full name as Samantha Carter, and he realized that his default assumption was incorrect.

The other computer beeped, and he went to see what it had found. It had managed to get through the password, and he just grabbed everything he could find, transferring all the data to an external hard drive. The longer he was in, the more likely he'd be found. Yes, he'd been told to find out the cause of the blackouts, but he knew that this crossed the line of what was permissible.

Pulling out was just as hard as getting in since Rodney had to be careful to leave no tracks. By the time he was finished the sun was starting to peek through the curtains.

"I'm too fucking old for all nighters," he groaned as he got up and to take a shower.

Grabbing the hard drive with the data on it, he grabbed his travel mug and filled it with coffee before leaving the house. Caffeine was a necessity today

Coffee in hand, he got back in his car and headed up to DOE. He made it all the way to his desk before Holden accosted him. "What the hell did you do, McKay?" he yelled.

"Huh?" There was no way that someone had discovered his hacking. Absolutely no way.

"Some high muckety muck from DOD was in the Secretary's office this morning, demanding that we shut you down. Apparently you managed to poke a hornet's nest." Holden looked seriously freaked. Rodney didn't blame him - he was feeling a little shaky as well.

"All I did was what you told me to do - try to find the cause of the blackouts." Rodney very carefully did not mention the hard drive in his pocket. "And when I left last night, I hadn't found anything yet."

"Well, the Secretary has pulled you off that, permanently," said Holden. "He called me himself this morning."

Well, that explained the freaking. Calls from the Secretary to someone at Holden's level were unheard of. "But there's an honest to god problem there, Holden."

"I don't care if the state of Colorado is getting ready to burst into flames," Holden said. "You're to drop it, now. Just be thankful that they haven't terminated your contract."

"I am," said Rodney, a little dazed. Terminate his contract? What was on his hard drive? Suddenly he needed to be home, where he could look it over, but he knew that Holden would never okay it. So he sat at his desk, and went back to the project he'd dumped in Miller's lap before this all went to hell.

He'd never watched the clock so carefully before, and at exactly four, he was out of his chair. He'd had the feeling all day that someone had been staring at him, the back of his neck breaking out in goosebumps over and over again. He didn't pause to stop and chat with anyone; he just found his car and headed home.

Police cars surrounded his apartment building. "What the fuck?" he mumbled as he got out of his car. It never rained but it poured.

Walking up to one of the officers, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Sorry, sir. There's been a break in. One of the neighbors reported an open door and banging noises."

Rodney had a sudden sinking sensation in his stomach. "What apartment?"

"Apartment number seven." The officer looked excited. Rodney distantly wondered if he was a rookie.

"That's my apartment," he said, as he went numb.

"It is? Oh, then the detective will want to talk to you."

"Detective Bruno," he said, holding out a hand to shake. "You live in apartment seven?"

Rodney took it. "Yes, I'm Rodney McKay. Can I come see how much damage was done?"

"Absolutely. I need you to identify what's missing as well." The two of them made their way over to the elevator, taking it to the third floor. The door was hanging half off its hinges, and Rodney swallowed hard.

The living room looked like something out of the movies. All of his books had been pulled off their shelves, bookcases toppled. Whoever did this had even sliced open each cushion of his sofa.

"It's a mess," said Bruno. "I assume it didn't look like this before you left for work."

"Hardly," said Rodney. "But I need to check the back room to know what's missing." Rodney thought he might know what this was about, but he wasn't sure, and wouldn't be sure until he knew what was missing.

"Thought that might be the case." Bruno led him through the debris to his den, which had its door smashed in.

All of Rodney's computer equipment was gone. Just flat gone.

"Yeah, okay, my computers are missing," he said, trying to still his racing heart. They had been after his computer equipment. He would bet serious money that this had to do with the hacking he'd done the night before. Fuck. He thought he hadn't left any tracks.

The detective was staring at him, and Rodney wondered if he'd been trying to get his attention or something. "Mr. McKay? I'll need you to see one of the officers outside and describe your computer equipment so that we can start checking the pawn shops."

Rodney knew that it was pointless - the people who had stolen his computer weren't going to be pawning them - but he went obediently enough and gave them the specs on his machines. The guy he was talking to whistled. "Those are some serious computers," he said.

"Yeah, well, supergeek," Rodney said, but it no longer seemed quite so funny.

After he finished, the officer said, "We're going to be up there a while longer. You should probably go find a hotel room. We're going to be there at least overnight. And if you think of anything else, you should call Detective Bruno."

"Okay," Rodney muttered, already heading to his car. He needed to find out what was on the hard drive in his pocket.

He drove to the library in Germantown, picking a terminal as far from the circulation desk as he could get. Connecting the hard drive, he started looking.

What he found blew him away. Pictures of aliens. Pictures of places that looked like nothing on earth. Descriptions of an energy source called naquadah.

He kept going back to pictures of something labeled a "Wraith" and something labeled an "Asgard." They looked like something out of bad science fiction. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that he'd accidentally hacked a Hollywood studio.

Now, what to do with what he'd found?

Then he thought of CNN correspondent John Sheppard. Sheppard seemed to delight in taking on the government. He could remember him taking on the CIA and the FBI. He'd even found dirt on the Department of Energy. He seemed like the kind of man who'd talk about aliens if there was proof.

He did a bit of searching and found an office and cell number for Sheppard. He needed to get out of the public eye before he tried to call him, though.

Clearing the computer's history and cache, he'd disconnected the drive and stuffed it in his pocket when a hand landed on his shoulder. "Mr. McKay? I need you to come with me, quietly."

Fuck that. That way lay his body washing up in the bay somewhere. Rodney stood up suddenly and broke away from the hand, which was connected to a blonde woman. Two other men were there, but both of them looked surprised at his sudden lurch into action, and he took advantage to dart towards the back of the library. There was an emergency exit he could use

He could hear them yelling at each other to grab him, but he was already to the door. He ignored the sign saying it was alarmed and opened it, breaking into a dead run for a few hundred feet. He knew that he couldn't outrun whoever they were, but he didn't need to. As always, the area was packed, and he quickly found himself surrounded by a group of people out walking. He matched his pace to theirs and headed for the shopping center up two blocks. Once there, he went into the supermarket.

Still not running, because running was a good way to attract attention, he went in one door and came out the other, looking for a cab. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait - there was one there - and after a moment's thought, he had the driver take him to the Rockville station. From there, he could have hopped one of several trains, going four different directions.

He picked the one towards D.C., and ultimately got off in Dupont Circle, because it was busy during the evening, and because he was familiar with its layout. He didn't dare use his own phone, so the first stop was a convenience store to pick up a disposable one.

He tried Sheppard's office phone first, and got a very pleasant young lady who would let him leave a message, but no amount of yelling would let him get past her to Sheppard. He didn't dare leave a message, so he hung up on her and tried his cell phone.

Sheppard answered that, but as soon as Rodney started to introduce himself, Sheppard said, "Take story ideas to my research manager, Ronon Dex," and hung up the phone. Rodney stared at it blankly, and then tried to figure out what to do.

A few questions of some of the people around him led him to the West End library, where he could use the web to figure out where Sheppard might be. He wouldn't talk to Rodney on the phone, fine. Let him try to ignore Rodney in person at his peril.

He managed to find Sheppard's home address after about ten minutes, and it was right there in D.C. It looked like it was a locked building, but he'd have to leave it sooner or later.

Rodney took up a position across the street from the building, waiting next to a small convenience store for Sheppard to come out, while trying to keep an eye out for the blonde and her two henchmen.

He'd been there about an hour when he saw Sheppard come out of his building dressed for a run, heading right for Rodney. Perfect.

Rodney stepped into his path. "Mr. Sheppard."

"I'm busy. Call CNN if you have a complaint or a story idea." Sheppard tried to shoulder past Rodney, but Rodney was broader and desperation made him refuse to give way.

"I'm Rodney McKay, I work for the Department of Energy, and I have a story for you."

Sheppard snorted. "I find my own stories, thanks."

"There's nothing to top this one, I promise you," Rodney said. "Please, Mr. Sheppard, I've had my house broken into, and I'm being chased because of what I know. Please let me give it to you."

"Yeah, right." Sheppard tried to push past him again, and this time Rodney was angry and desperate enough that he grabbed Sheppard and shoved him back against the wall next to them.

"Ten minutes of your time," he said pleadingly. "If I can't prove that it's worth a story to you in ten minutes, I'll leave you alone."

Sheppard studied his face for a long moment, and then nodded. "Fine. Ten minutes."

Thankfully, there was an internet cafe not far away, and Rodney walked there quickly, keeping an eye on Sheppard.

He hooked his drive to the computer, and brought up the picture of the Wraith.

"What's that?" Sheppard asked, moving closer to the screen.

Pushing the mouse and keyboard in front of Sheppard, Rodney said, "See for yourself."

Sheppard clicked on image after image, and then hit the mission reports that Rodney hadn't even looked at. "Is this for real?" he finally asked.

"Yes," said Rodney. "I got it from the SGC last night. They broke into my house today and stole my computers, and someone tried to grab me when I went to the library to look at the drive. All I could think was how do I get them off my back, and I figured that you were the best bet."

Sheppard nodded slowly. "I think I can help you."

"I want to stay off the record."

"Okay, Rodney. You say that 'they're' out to get you. Who are they? Do you know?" Sheppard didn't look as though he was making fun of Rodney, which was the only reason that Rodney didn't get mad.

"I think it's the Stargate Command - the people in charge of the stuff I just showed you. It's either them or the DOD. Hell, I don't know." Rodney ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "For all I know it's the girl scouts."

Sheppard nodded. "Okay, so the first thing to do is get you off the street until we can get this on the air. Once it's out there, they won't be worrying about you."

Memories of various crime shows made Rodney say, "But I can't use my credit card - won't they be able to find me from that?"

Grinning, Sheppard said, "Let me worry about that."

Pulling out his cell phone Sheppard placed a call. Rodney could only hear his side of it. "Teyla? Yeah. Meet me at the usual place in about an hour? I've got a job for you."

He didn't bother to say goodbye. Instead he just hung up the phone and hooked a hand under Rodney's arm. "Let's go."

Sheppard took him to a run down motel and left him standing in the lobby as he went to get a room. Rodney couldn't help jump every time the door opened or people came out of the elevator, even though he didn't know how he could have been tailed this far.

He came back and led Rodney to room twenty-six. They hadn't even made it through the door when there was a knock. Rodney started in fear, but Sheppard just said, "Relax."

Sheppard opened the door and let a beautiful woman inside. Rodney blinked. She looked like she could be a model or an actress. "Rodney? This is your bodyguard, Ms. Emmagan."

His what? He turned his stare onto Sheppard. "My bodyguard? But she's a - "

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you. She's scarily competent, McKay, and will do better than anyone else to keep you alive. I use her for all my witnesses who are on the run."

Rodney was still a bit disbelieving, but he didn't see where he had a choice. He held out his hand to shake hers. "I'm sorry. It just surprised me, that's all."

"No offense, Mr. McKay," she said, her voice warm and full of good humor. "Now, if I may suggest that I secure the room?"

Sheppard nodded, and Rodney said, "Yes, yes, of course." They watched in silence as she searched the walls, the bed frame, the lamps, and even the fixtures in the bathroom before declaring the suite free from bugs.

"Now what?" Rodney asked.

"Now I call Ronon, and we get the ball rolling to clear space on tomorrow's prime time broadcast so that I can get this information out there. You just breathe." Sheppard pulled out his cell phone and Rodney tuned out the conversation. He was completely overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the last two days.

After Sheppard hung up the phone, Rodney said, "I just want to say that I appreciate your help. You don't know how scared I am."

"I don't blame you. But you're safer now, and by this time tomorrow, it'll be out in the world." Sheppard licked his lips, and Rodney noticed for the first time that he was a very attractive man. He wondered if fear had distracted him that much, because he didn't know how he hadn't noticed before.

"Um," he said, tongue-tied suddenly. He wondered if there was a point in flirting. He wondered if he was crazy - his life was on the line and he was thinking about getting laid?

Then he decided. If he got through the next twenty-four hours, he'd take the risk. But he had to get through the next day first.

"Okay - I'm going to need that drive," Sheppard said. "I need to take it to my office to start editing the footage."

"No," Rodney said before he even thought about it. "I'm not letting it out of my sight. It's the only thing I've got to insure my own safety."

"Rodney - " Sheppard said.

"No. Find another way." Rodney couldn't believe himself. He'd always been direct and assertive, but this was pretty extreme even for him.

"Okay - I have an idea. You stay here with Teyla. I'll be back in an hour."

"Fine." Sheppard left the room, and Rodney stared at the wall. Even once he got the SGC off his back, his life was fucked. Thank god for dual citizenship - he'd be able to go home to Canada if he couldn't find another job here.

There was a soft touch on his arm. "It will work out, Mr. McKay," said Ms. Emmagan. "John is the best at what he does. Do not worry."

"It's one thing I'm very good at, Ms. Emmagan. And please, call me Rodney."

"Rodney, then. Please call me Teyla. It will be fine." She lifted her hand off his arm, and stepped away. The silence that followed was less uncomfortable, and Rodney practically dozed, since he was going on thirty-six hours with no sleep.

The knock on the door startled him awake but before he could say anything, Teyla held up one finger to her lips. She glided over to the door, and looked through the peephole, before opening the door.

Sheppard stood on the other side, carrying a laptop bag. "This way we can share the data," he said. He connected the hard drive that was in the bag and held out his hand to Rodney for his drive.

A little reluctantly, Rodney handed it over, and Sheppard plugged it in. He set up the data transfers - one to the other hard drive and one to the computer itself - and then smiled at Rodney.

Rodney nodded, keeping an eye on the data transfer rates so that he wasn't staring at Sheppard. It took the better part of a half hour, but the transfer finally finished. Sheppard ejected the hard drives, handed Rodney's to him, and put the other back in the Best Buy bag. "Do you have a phone?" he asked.

Digging in his pocket, he found the disposable one that he'd bought a couple of hours earlier. "Yeah. I called you from it earlier, but it's a throw away."

"Toss it, then," said Sheppard. "I'll call Teyla if there's a problem or if I have questions. You get some rest. I'll leave the computer here so that you'll have something to do until I need you."

With that, he left the room, leaving Rodney with Teyla. At her urging, he lay down. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to actually rest, but he was even more tired than he thought, and pretty soon, he was sound asleep.

He wasn't sure what woke him, but then the phone rang again. Before he could pick it up, Teyla had answered it. She smiled and held it out to Rodney, who took it. "Hello?"

"Hey, McKay. Ronon has some questions before we go on the air. Can Teyla bring you to the studio?"

"Um, I guess so. Hold on a second." Covering the mouthpiece, he asked Teyla, "Can we go to the studio?"

"It should be safe enough," she said. "Yes."

"She says yes," he told Sheppard. Going into the bathroom and tried his best to clean up, given that was the second day in the same clothes, and that he didn't really have time to shower.

Teyla led the way to her car, and she drove to the studio. Finding parking on the street was a bitch, but they managed. Inside they were met by a huge man with an awesome set of dreadlocks. Rodney couldn't help but stare as they were led back to Sheppard's office. As soon as they were settled, he introduced himself as Ronon Dex and asked, "How did you get this information?"

Rodney explained about the brownouts, and why he'd gone looking. He explained the evidence trails he'd followed. He told them about the blonde in the library and break-in at his house. Through it all, Sheppard nodded. "We've verified parts of your story. The break-in is public record, and there were reports of a disturbance at the library yesterday."

Dex broke in. "Why did you come to John?"

"Because - because he's taken on the government before, and he's not afraid. And because it's the only way I can think of to get them off my back."

"Told you so," said Sheppard, and Ronon nodded.

"Okay - the story will run at eight o'clock sharp. You can stay here in John's office till we go on the air. No hacking using our connection, though."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," he said. "Is there somewhere I can hook up this laptop to play FreeCell?"

Dex showed him where he could plug it in the wall, and he very determinedly ignored the hustle and bustle around him as Sheppard and Dex did arcane things to get ready to go on T.V. It was about seven-thirty when Sheppard got called out for make up. Without really thinking about it, he looked up and said, "You don't really need it. You're pretty enough without it."

Sheppard didn't say anything, but he did flush faintly as he left the room. Teyla smiled enigmatically, and Rodney said, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. "Just I have never seen John quite so flustered before. It is quite entertaining."

Rodney smiled then, too. A flustered Sheppard was probably a good thing.

When they were down to five minutes before the hour, Dex came back in and flipped on the closed circuit T.V. in the room. Rodney watched as Sheppard got settled behind the desk, and as the lights around the desk dimmed, he found himself holding his breath.

He could see someone counting down, and then they hit one. A second later, Sheppard started talking. "Yesterday, an unnamed source brought to my attention..."

Rodney lost the thread of what he was saying pretty quickly. He'd done it. He'd survived, and the information was going to get out.

It only took fifteen minutes for Sheppard to come back into the room, and he said, "There, you should be safe now, Rodney. And the government has some explaining to do."

Rodney didn't hesitate. He stood up and approached Sheppard, watching for any sign that this wasn't welcome. He didn't get one, so he grabbed Sheppard in a hug, and gave him a tentative kiss.

Sheppard kissed him back. They only broke the kiss when Dex cleared his throat loudly from behind Sheppard. "I suppose this is off the record too?"


End file.
